


i'd marry you (with paper rings)

by binchmarner



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Come Eating, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Morning Sex, Nate really loves Tys okay, Sleepy Sex, i had to write it, sleepy morning sex, they're basically married anyway but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:07:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21765508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/binchmarner/pseuds/binchmarner
Summary: When Tyson surprises Nate for Christmas, Nate's thrilled. Only, that's not the only surprise up either of their sleeves.
Relationships: Tyson Barrie/Nathan MacKinnon
Comments: 16
Kudos: 75
Collections: Hockey Holidays 2019





	i'd marry you (with paper rings)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stormylullabye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormylullabye/gifts).

> thank you to K, C, E and S for looking this over. Thank you to J for letting me bug you about this for a month and a half, and thank you to sprinto bot for letting me use you for about 6 hours straight.
> 
> for YOU, my dear stormylullabye. I hope you love this story, and i hope it's all the christmassy goodness that you could ever hope to have. i'm so glad i got you as my person and all i hope is that you love this as much as i loved writing it.
> 
> title of this story comes from taylor swift's song [paper rings](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8zdg-pDF10g).

Nate’s eating his pregame meal when he hears a knock at his door. He puts down his fork, pushes his chair out from the table and walks over to the door. He unlocks the door, and opens it, and--

“No fucking way.”

Tyson’s on his doorstep, with a suitcase, rosy cheeks and an endearing smile. 

That easy smile that Nate has missed _so_ much.

“Merry Christmas?” Tyson says, clasping his hands together–– which are going to be freezing, holy fuck, dude, put on mittens or something.

“You’re supposed to be in Canada, what–– what are you doing here?” Nate asks, pulling him in for a hug. He knows it’s only been a month since he’s seen Tyson in person, and a little over a half a day since Tyson FaceTimed him, but he’s _missed_ his boyfriend.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Tyson laughs, hugging Nate back, clinging to him as if Nate were going to disappear right out from under his hands. “I love you.”

Nate wants to cry, is probably crying, because Tyson wasn’t supposed to be here. Nate was supposed to wait to see if _maybe_ they could swing spending Christmas Eve together. But now they’ve got all of tomorrow to spend together, and Christmas morning, without being absolutely exhausted.

“You’re insane, I _love_ you. You’re supposed to be in Canada,” Nate says again, because how could Tyson get this past him? Tyson hums, hugging him a little tighter, and the tension Nate didn’t know he was holding for the past four weeks just dissipates. He feels safe, like he doesn’t have to worry about anything.

“And you’re supposed to be asleep. Come on, let me inside so we can get to bed,” Tyson grins, kissing Nate’s forehead. Nate smiles at him, and Tyson flushes, ducking his head. “You and your dumb new teeth.”

“Thought you liked my dumb new teeth,” Nate says, stepping back to let Tyson in the house. “You’re freezing, by the way.”

“Toronto cold is a completely different cold than Denver cold. I almost forgot about it,” Tyson says, taking off his beanie and slipping out of his coat. 

“Almost,” Nate echoes.

For some reason, that makes Nate’s heart warm quicker than the heating does. Tyson turns around and smiles brightly at him, and Nate just walks up to him, tucking Tyson close in his arms. He knows Tyson isn’t fragile, but when Tyson curls into him, he feels protective and right, like this is how he could spend the rest of his life.

It’s a nice feeling.

“How could I forget what home is like?” Tyson asks, cold lips ghosting against Nate’s collarbone where the neck of his t-shirt has stretched too far. He looks up and smiles again, gentler this time, and Nate presses his lips against his. 

“I’m glad you haven’t,” Nate says, hoping that his _about me_ isn’t too obvious. There’s something in Tyson’s gaze that Nate hasn’t seen before, a little sad, like he understands anyway.

“Come on,” Tyson says, kissing under Nate’s jaw. “Bed, so you can win the game for me.”

“Oh, for you?” Nate teases, chuckling. “Why would I do that?”

“Because there might be something in it for you if you do,” Tyson winks, threading his fingers with Nate’s and squeezing. “C’mon, you need sleep.”

Nate sighs, kissing him again. “I’d rather do something else.”

“Bed.”

“Yes, mom,” Nate says, leading Tyson through his house. Which goes fine; they’re in their bedroom, or Nate is, at least, and––

“Nate,” Tyson says, outside of the bedroom. Nate turns around, furrowing his eyebrows.

“What’s up?”

“You don’t have a single Christmas decoration up.” Tyson looks around their house. “You don’t–– you don’t even have a _tree_ up!”

“Yeah,” Nate says, shrugging. “I didn’t think we were going to be able to celebrate together here, so I thought _what’s the point?_”

Tyson’s face softens. “Oh, Nate.” 

“Christmas was always more your thing, and it sort of hurt to put up decorations without you.” Nate says, getting into bed. He pulls up the covers, the Toronto Maple Leafs blanket he got to show support to Tyson. 

“Well, we have all of tomorrow, don’t we?” Tyson says. “We can put up a tree, or we can just celebrate Christmas without it.”

“Let’s do some decorating,” Nate says, and his heart clenches as he sees Tyson’s bright smile. “Come to bed, I’ll see if I can get you into the press box tonight.”

Tyson slips into bed after changing, and Nate falls asleep quicker than he’d had in months. The only thing that’s changed is that he’s curled up with Tyson now.

….

They win.

They win against the Golden Knights by the skin of their teeth, because the Golden Knights are _good_. Cale picks up a goal and an assist, but Belly gets a hat trick, two of those goals being unanswered, and that seals the deal. 

Nate gets a power play goal during the game, but he’s not called to be in a media scrum, so he showers and leaves as soon as he can. Tyson’s waiting outside of the locker room when he walks out–– he’s in a new suit and coat and Nate’s breath catches when he sees him.

“Thank god for Toronto tailors.” Nate grins.

Tyson looks up from his phone, his cheeks flushing. “Do I look that good?”

“Hell yes you do.” Nate says, looking Tyson up and down. He bought a suit from Bespoke, and the tailor did work his magic: the dark blue suit was tailored to fit his thighs and ass, the shirt just tight enough to stretch across his shoulders but not tight enough for the buttons to pop. 

Tyson looks good, and he knows it. He chuckles anyway. “Flirt,” he says, looping his arm with Nate’s as they walk to Nate’s car. 

“Might be. What’s it gonna get me?” Nate grins, laughing when Tyson gasps playfully, hitting his chest.

“It’ll get you nothing if you keep that up,” Tyson says, but they both know he’s lying. 

The drive home is easy. There isn’t much snow so it’s safe enough for Nate to reach over and hold Tyson’s hand when they’re waiting in traffic. 

“I love you,” Nate says softly. It’s barely loud enough to be heard over the Christmas station. He doesn’t think Tyson hears him, but he squeezes Nate’s hand. When he looks over, Tyson’s staring back at him.

“Forever, dude,” Tyson says easily. 

He thinks about the ring in the pocket of his suit jacket tucked away in the back of his closet. He’d picked it up on “Serious Business” with EJ, who chirped him the entire time about being a softie now, as if Nate has ever been anything but soft for Tyson Barrie ever in his entire life. Even though asking Tyson to marry him makes Nate’s stomach tie in knots, the idea of Tyson saying _yes_ to being _his_?

He thinks he’d want to tell the entire world.

“You went to another place, dude. What’s going on?” Tyson asks, furrowing his brows. Nate grins.

“Hey, baby,” Nate sings. “I think I want to marry you.”

Tyson laughs as they pull into Nate’s driveway. They’ve been asking to marry each other for about a year, little teasing things over text like _run away with me_ and _let’s get married tomorrow._

“You do, do you?” Tyson asks, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Well, mister. I think you should at least get me a ring.”

And that’s how it goes. Nate asks Tyson to marry him, and Tyson asks for a ring. Sometimes Tyson asks Nate to marry him and makes a ring out of straw wrappers. Nate’s heart always tightens, and he always takes it. The ring never fits, but he keeps it in his wallet until it gets crushed. Then it goes in a little baggie in his side table drawer for safekeeping.

He smiles, opening up his wallet. He picks out the little flattened paper ring and rests it in the palm of his hand.

_Good thing I already have a ring._

....

“Nate…”

Nate shakes his head, curling closer into his pillow. His bed is warm; his bed is nice. His pillow is comfortable; _he’s_ comfortable. Whatever being is calling his name, luring him out of sleep is bad and evil and––

“C’mon, baby. I can’t blow you if you’re not awake to consent and appreciate it,” the voice says, silky smooth, and, well, Nate’s okay with waking up for this. 

He blinks his eyes open to see Tyson, his curls messy and his smile bright.

“You, sir,” Tyson says, the golden light from the morning shining on his face, “need better blinds.”

“Well, if you’d remembered to close them,” Nate mumbles, letting his eyes flutter shut, “we wouldn’t have to worry about it waking you up.”

“If you hadn’t pinned me to the counter as soon as you got into the kitchen,” Tyson says, wrapping a hand around Nate’s dick. He chuckles when Nate shudders. “I wouldn’t have been desperate enough to forget.”

“Fuck,” Nate murmurs, thrusting into the loose circle Tyson made with his fist. “Well––”

“You’re really going to backtalk the person whose hand is on your dick?” Tyson asks. He hums when Nate shakes his head. “Good.”

“Please, Tys,” Nate says, his cock hardening almost embarrassingly quickly in Tyson’s hand. “Want your mouth.”

“Is that how we ask for things, baby?” Tyson asks, leaning forward to press kiss after kiss down Nate’s neck, sucking at the pressure point there. Pleasure zings down Nate’s spine and curls in his belly, and he can’t help but ask nicely.

“Please.” He can’t get above more than a whisper, but that seems to be enough for Tyson. Tyson slides down the bed under the covers, and Nate gasps when he feels Tyson’s hot breath against his belly, teasing just above where he most wants it. “Tyson, _please_.”

Tyson pulls down Nate’s boxers and licks a flat stripe along the sensitive vein on the underside of his dick, his hands on either side of his hips, pinning them to the mattress. Nate’s breath hitches at the feeling of not being able to move–– he’d been able to move them back in the beginning of November. Tyson’s getting stronger, which is… a whole thing for Nate to think about later.

When Tyson wraps his lips around Nate’s dick, he whines, his thighs flexing as he tries to keep still. “More, Tys, _please_, I’ll be good.”

He threads his fingers through Tyson’s hair, and Tyson takes more of Nate into his mouth, farther and farther until his nose is pressed against Nate’s belly. It takes all of Nate’s self restraint to not come right there, especially when Tyson moans around him when Nate grips his hair. 

“Fuck, oh my god Tyson, baby. Your mouth is––”

The suction is amazing; it’s warm and wet, and Tyson is _pinning him to the bed_ which is several thousand levels of hot, and when Tyson pulls back, his lips are red and plump, his hair is mussed and he looks like––

He looks like he’s been sucking dick.

“I guess I’ll be nice because it’s Christmas Eve,” Tyson teases, his voice trying to be light but missing by a mile because he truly sounds like Nate’s been fucking his throat. Tyson takes Nate’s cock back in his mouth, and Nate arches his back when he feels Tyson press up against his taint.

“Fuck… fuck, I’m close, Tys––” Nate warns, and almost sobs when Tyson pulls off. 

It doesn’t last long, though, because Tyson wraps his hand around Nate’s cock, jerking him off quickly. “C’mon, Nate. Come on my face.” 

Tyson shuts his eyes and opens his mouth, and that’s what does it for Nate, coming hard across his face. He smiles when Nate finishes and opens his eyes, and honestly, he should, because the noise Nate makes is downright hilarious.

Tyson looks debauched, used–– his cock straining in his underwear with come streaking his face. If Nate hadn’t just come, he probably could do it again just looking at him.

Nate fumbles for the lube on his bedside table, slicking his hand before stuffing it in Tyson’s boxers. “Fuck, you treated me so well. God, look at you, Tys, you look a sight, eh? Covered in my come? Bet you ground against the bed as you blew me.”

Tyson nods, whimpering as Nate kisses him, catching a bit of his come on Tyson’s lips. He pulls back, wiping a streak off of Tyson’s cheekbone with his thumb and smiling as Tyson wraps his lips around it. 

“God, you’re absolutely fucking unbelievable,” Nate says. “C’mon, come for me.”

Tyson groans, leaning forward and coming hard in his boxers. Nate jerks him through it until he shies away, and he pulls back immediately. 

“So,” Nate says after a moment, flushing dark. “Since when have you been able to pin me down?”

“Been weight training in Toronto.” Tyson grins. “I know you’d talked about wanting something to keep you on the bed. How are you feeling?”

“Green, good, awesome, we should _definitely_ do that again,” Nate says. 

“We can, but we’ve gotta decorate today. But,” Tyson says, smirking, “that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m going to behave in the shower.”

Nate grins. “Let’s go then.”

….

“You’re kidding,” Nate says when Tyson plugs the aux cord into his phone when they get into the car. “With your taste in music?”

“I’ll be good!” Tyson lies through his teeth, and he _knows_ Nate can see right through it. “It’ll be good music!”

“I literally don’t believe you for a second, but okay.” Nate says, turning the seat heaters on. Or rather, _his_ seat heater on. The Traitor of Bad Christmas Music doesn’t deserve heat.

Tyson doesn’t even meet his gaze when the song turns on and the famous xylophone intro blasts through the speakers. He can’t contain his laughter when he does look at Nate’s _very_ unamused face. “_What?_ Tell me you hate Mariah Carey.”

“I hate Mariah Carey.” Nate says matter-of-factly, like it’s the most obvious thing Known In The Universe, _God,_ Tyson, Why Didn’t You Know? 

“How… how can you hate _the_ Mariah Carey? How long have we been dating? This is a dealbreaker, I’m sorry, this isn’t going to work out,” Tyson teases, and Nate rolls his eyes. 

“Too many notes. _Yo-oo-oou_,” Nate sings, trying his best to riff and failing miserably. Tyson’s smile widens, and Nate shakes his head as he pulls out of the garage. 

“She’s a national treasure!” Tyson says. 

“She’s a brat,” Nate retorts. 

Tyson thinks for a moment. “I— you’re right.” 

“Exactly. What’s next, Michael Bublé?” Nate asks, and Tyson can’t even look at him. “I knew it. Give me your phone.”

“No! Gabe told me to help get you into the Christmas spirit while I’m here, and the spirit starts with the music!” he says, turning up the music.

“Come on, at least play like, that Ariana Grande song, right? Or Wham!?”

Nate can feel Tyson’s judging glare as he turns out of the neighborhood and he doesn’t enjoy it, thank you very much.

“_Wham!_? Really? Your idea of a “Good Christmas Song” is _Wham!_?” Tyson asks, and Nate rolls his eyes. 

“I will turn your AC on.”

“No, seriously! We’re learning a lot about one another,” Tyson says, grinning widely. 

After Nate threatens to leave Tyson on the side of the road (not that he’d ever do it, and Tyson says as much––_you looooove me too much_), he does concede and turn on _Santa Tell Me_, which even Nate can say is a bop.

It doesn’t take long to get to the tree farm, and Nate can’t help but smile when he sees Tyson rocking to Ariana Grade. It reminds him of the two of them driving home from practices and games in the hopes of ordering pizza and playing Mario Kart only to fall asleep on top of each other before even getting out their phones.

He stuffs down the part of him that aches for everything to be like that again and tries to stay in the present. The present, where Tyson is singing off key to the jingle bell pop beat. The present, where he has Tyson–– _his_ Tyson with him. 

Nate pulls into the Christmas tree farm just as Tyson is changing the lyrics of the bridge to a much cruder version that is decidedly _not_ kid-friendly (not that Nate particularly minds, mind you, but he did just come twice).

“_And I wanna let Nate unwrap me like ooh. Get on top of him by the fireplace ooh––_ hey!” Tyson laughs when Nate hits his bicep. 

“Do not put my name in the sex version of the song!” Nate says, his cheeks flushing. Tyson rolls his eyes with a smile.

“The… the sex version,” Tyson says, opening the door and getting out. Nate splutters, unbuckling his seatbelt. He gets out of the car and walks up to Tyson.

“I’ve gotta get you into the Christmas spirit somehow, MacK,” Tyson says, grinning mischievously, stepping into Nate’s space, his lips almost touching Nate’s. “If that’s the way to do it, you can wrap me up like a Christmas gift and––”

Nate covers his mouth. “There are _children_ here.”

Tyson licks his hand.

“You’re disgusting.”

“You weren’t saying that about my mouth earlier. What was it. _More, please, Tys, I’ll be good!_” Tyson grins, chuckling. Nate rolls his eyes and tries to walk further up to the entrance, but Tyson catches his hand and pulls him back. “Hey, hey. Don’t worry. I was only teasing, I promise.”

Tyson leans forward and captures Nate’s lips in a kiss, smiling as Nate relaxes into it. 

“I love you,” Nate says. “I have ornaments for us to use so we don’t need those, but if you want rainbow lights, we’ll have to go get them.”

“Sounds gay, I’m into it.” Tyson grins. “Let’s pick a good tree first.”

Nate nods and threads their fingers together, squeezing as they walk into the farm. All at once, it’s like Nate’s entire demeanor changes. The smell of the pine needles ghost around the area, filling up his senses as he walks through. It snowed overnight, so some of the trees have snow on their branches, and as they walk through the aisles, Nate can make believe that he and Tyson are back in Nova Scotia in a cabin, like the two of them have all the time in the world. 

He must be standing still for too long, just looking up at the trees and taking in everything, because Tyson calls his name.

“I found our tree!” Tyson calls, waving Nate over. 

The tree is smaller than most, pine needles already falling off, and it truly reminds Nate of the Christmas tree Charlie Brown finds. 

He loves it.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Tyson asks, wrapping his arms around Nate’s waist. Nate looks down at Tyson and back up at the tree.

“Yeah, yeah. I think it is.” 

….

After brunch and a trip to Target for three boxes of rainbow lights, many, _many_ new ornaments–– _it’s a Baby Yoda, Nate, where’s your humanity?_–– wrapping paper, hot chocolate bombs, marshmallows, and enough junk food to feed half the team, Nate and Tyson finally, _finally_ make it home.

“We have to set up the tree!” Tyson calls. “But I’m going to be busy for, like, five minutes, so give me ten!”

Nate knows better than to question the science of Tyson Barrie Math and sets to work setting up the tree. It’s not the prettiest, but it sure is going to be the most well loved, Nate thinks. He goes into the basement and brings out the orange tub of Christmas decorations, and opens the box. 

He smiles at the first ornament he takes out–– Tyson and Nate each got an ornament on their first Christmas together, gifted from the team by EJ and Gabe. It’s a photo of the two of them having fallen asleep leaning against each other on the plane. It’s probably Nate’s favorite ornament, because of what Gabe had said to him when he’d opened it.

_“To your first Christmas and every one after it,” he had said, smiling kindly at Nate. “I know there are going to be a lot. You two are good for each other.”_

He sets that ornament on the table and lays out the others until he gets to the tangled, tinsel-wrapped cardboard. 

“We meet again,” Nate says, sighing. “I think I’m going to need vodka this year to deal with you.”

“I don’t think that’s how our hot chocolates are made, but if you wanna go that route you can.” Nate hears Tyson say, and when he looks behind him, Tyson’s leaning against the wall, a present wrapped in his hand. 

“Is that… Baby Shark wrapping paper?” Nate says, amused. 

“I don’t know, what’s it to you?” Tyson asks, unable to keep the smile off his face. “I saw it at Target and I thought it looked cute, so I snatched it up.”

“Those poor five year olds that just wanted their Baby Shark wrapping paper,” Nate teases. Tyson grins.

“First come, first served. It’s… also Christmas Eve. You’ve gotta be an amazing procrastinator if you were just buying wrapping paper now,” Tyson says. 

“You’re just saying that to pat yourself on the back.” 

“Might be.” Tyson shrugs. He sets down the present on the entertainment center and kneels down next to Nate. “What do we got?”

“Well, there’s this.” Nate picks up the ornament the Avs gave them. Tyson’s face softens as he takes the heart shaped ornament from Nate’s hands. 

“Hey, I remember this. Our first Christmas, right?” Tyson grins, touching the picture gently, as if it would disappear right under his fingertips.

“Yeah. Gabe said that we’d have so many Christmasses together, might as well document the first,” Nate says.

“Don’t forget the fine we paid right after.” Tyson laughs a little wetly. “God, I miss this team.”

Nate’s heart clenches, and he wraps his arms around Tyson’s waist. “We miss you too, Tys.”

“I know. It’s just hard watching you all from so far away.” Tyson sniffs, and if they’re really doing this now, there’s no time like the present to be vulnerable, Nate guesses.

“We lost you too, remember that–– I lost you too. You’re not alone in feeling like that. Every photo I see of you in a jersey with a 94, a blue that’s not our blue, I feel like–– I thought you were never going to come back.” Nate takes a shaky breath, burying his face in Tyson’s shoulder.

“You, hey, no.” Tyson turns towards him, hugging him. “I’m never leaving you.”

“Well good,” Nate says, holding him tight. “Because I’m not ever going to leave you.”

They stay there for a moment, holding each other and crying into each other’s shirts. “Well.” Tyson laughs, pulling back to wipe at his eyes. “Now that we’ve had a good cry about it, why don’t we actually get festive?” 

Nate nods, standing up and turning on the _Charlie Brown Christmas_ album, a regular tradition in the Barrie-MacKinnon household. 

It doesn’t take long for them to put the lights on the tree, find a specific place for Baby Yoda, Elsa, BB-8, Mr. Fabric Deer, Rex the T-Rex, put the elf legs tree topper on, and place tinsel carefully on the branches. Once they’re finished, they break into a bag of Hershey’s kisses.

“Can I have a kiss?” Nate asks, sidetracked as he tries to strategically place their ornament in the best place on the tree. Once he picks a place––not quite at the top, but in high enough that they can still see it from the couch–– he feels Tyson’s hands at his hips, spinning him around. Tyson kisses him quick, light and innocent with no other meaning other than an _I love you._ It leaves Nate breathless still, but then again, many things Tyson does leave him breathless. 

“Like that?” Tyson asks, grinning.

“You are a little shit,” Nate says, unable to keep the smile off his face any longer.

“And you’re in the Christmas spirit,” Tyson says victoriously.

“There’s a joke with kiss and Christmas in there somewhere, I just can’t find it,” Nate says.

….

Pizza bagel bites, chips, dip, and beers out, Nate and Tyson sit down ready to marathon Christmas movies. That is, before Nate realizes that he has to actually wrap Tyson’s gift. 

“I’ll be like, two seconds, okay?” Nate says. “I have Santa duty.”

“And you were chirping me about leaving my gift wrapping until the last minute.” Tyson grins. “Go, and maybe I won’t eat all the pepperoni bagel bites.”

Nate smiles and runs to his room, grabbing the scissors, the Baby Shark wrapping paper, and the tape. He takes out the ring box from the suit pocket in the back of his closet and sets it on the bed, setting to work on carefully wrapping it.

It takes him about three tries to wrap it correctly but he does, then gets an idea. He puts the ring box in a shoe box taken from the back of his closet, puts all the paper rings he’d kept in a baggie in, and wraps that too. 

When he walks back out to where Tyson is, setting the box under the tree. Tyson makes a face, chewing on a chip.

“None of your business,” Nate says, raising an eyebrow at him with a smile. “Are we going to watch Christmas movies or what?”

Tyson smiles. “Get over here then. Wait, turn on the tv, and _then_ get over here.”

….

They’d switched the junk food for a frozen pizza around 10, which is around the time when the annual _Is Die Hard a Christmas Movie_ argument is made.

“Just because a movie takes place at Christmas, it doesn’t mean it’s a Christmas movie,” Tyson says. “We go through this every year.”

“It is,” Nate replies, taking a bite of his pizza. “Can’t convince me it’s not.”

“Where’s the romance? Where’s the holiday spirit?” Tyson exclaims. “You can’t have a Christmas movie without the romance and the holiday spirit!”

“It still is. It’s at Christmas, therefore it is a Christmas movie,” Nate says with an air of finality to it. Truthfully, he doesn’t think it matters one way or the other. 

“_The Holiday?_ Jude Law? Cameron Diaz drunkenly singing Mr. Brightside?” Tyson asks, elaborating when Nate stares at him blankly. “C’mon. Rock paper scissors me for it.”

“Alright,” Nate says. “I’ll win though.” 

Nate knows without a doubt that Tyson will go paper first, because Tyson always goes paper first, and Nate knows Tyson better than anyone.

“Rock, paper, scissors…” Tyson says, and they throw down their symbols.

Tyson’s paper.

Nate’s rock.

Nate smiles when Tyson grins victoriously, queueing up the movie on Prime Video.  
….

They’re almost done with the movie when the clock strikes midnight. Tyson’s eyes are glassy as he tries to stay awake, still stuck in the jet lag, but Nate has a plan.

“Tys, hey. Bear, you up?” Nate asks, smiling when Tyson shakes his head. “C’mon, we have to do our tradition.”

“We have a lot of traditions,” Tyson mumbles, curling into his shoulder. “Can’t one of them be to just go to sleep?”

“You’ll like this one, promise,” Nate promises as he gets up and grabs the box from under the tree. He hands his gift to Tyson with a smile. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“It’s already midnight?” Tyson rubs at his eyes. He looks so cozy, Nate sort of wants to take a picture. He’s glad Tyson talked him into decorating for the holidays. 

“Yeah, Bear,” Nate says softly. “Open your gift.”

“Okay,” Tyson says, smiling as he unwraps the box. He looks at Nate with furrowed eyebrows. “You got me shoes? How’d you know I needed new dress shoes?”

“The box doesn’t tell you what you got, I promise. Open it up,” Nate says. Tyson does as he’s asked, and doesn’t look… any less confused when he opens the box.

“What are these?” Tyson picks up a flattened straw wrapper, looking at it’s mangled circular shape for a moment. Nate holds his breath; he’s able to see when the puzzle pieces fit together in Tyson’s brain, ready for tears, ready for a yes, or a no.

“No shit!”

Uh.

“What?” Nate asks, letting out a confused laugh, which does a hell of a job of getting himself to breathe. 

“No, I–– oh, oh my god. No! No if this is what I think it is... ” Tyson says, picking up the wrapped ring box. He takes the paper off, laughing wetly about _the fucking Baby Shark wrapping paper_, and all of a sudden, Nate is _very_ confused. “It _is_, oh my god. Hold on, oh my god.” Tyson drops the closed velvet box back into the shoe box.

Tyson gets up, fully awake it seems, and gets his box from under the tree. “I’ve had this for forever and I never knew when the right time to give it to you was, but I thought when I surprised you it would be right and––”

“Wait, woah woah, what’s happening?” Nate asks. Tyson thrusts the package into his hands. 

“Open it, please. Wow, I wish EJ were here, but then again, he would never let our codependent asses live this down,” Tyson says, and Nate’s ripping off the paper, his heart beating ever faster until his fingers hit blue velvet and…

“Wait, really?” Nate asks, his voice soft, a small smile ghosting his lips. “You came to Denver to surprise me for Christmas to propose?”

“Open it, please?” Tyson asks, smiling so wide. 

It’s a gorgeous titanium band with three diamonds set in. On the inside there’s an inscription that says, _love you forever._

It’s gorgeous and Nate’s in love. 

“Okay, okay, I’m done taking your spotlight, I’ll steal it after. Go ahead,” Tyson says, sitting down and opening the box. 

“The soundwave I had inscribed on it is of me saying _I love you,_ which is, incredibly powerful right now when all I want to say over and over again is how much I fucking _love you_, Tys,” Nate says, tears already welling in his eyes. “The papers in the box are every paper ring you gave me. I’d marry you with a paper ring, but I thought that this would work just as well.”

“You’re my best friend, Tys. No one knows me better than you do, and I don’t expect anyone to know me like this ever again. You’re my soulmate,” Nate draws in a shaky breath. “You’re not my other half, because I can survive without you, but life would pretty much suck without you.”

“I can’t believe you just quoted Kelly Clarkson at me,” Tyson laughs wetly. “I love you so much, and I can’t believe I’ve had the privilege to get to know you, to be with you for seven years. You’re absolutely the most amazing man I know. Thank you for letting me infect your music taste, thank you for making me laugh. You’re probably my favorite person, and my best friend. You’re full of so much love, and life, and I’m so lucky to have met you through this stupid game of hockey. My home isn’t Denver, Nate. My home is wherever you are.”

“That was cheesy,” Nate says, laughing through his tears. He feels like he’s soaring, he feels like there’s nothing that he can’t do, especially with Tyson by his side. 

“Says the guy who not only quoted Kelly Clarkson, but also Taylor Swift?” Tyson says, raising an eyebrow. 

“Shut up and let me put the ring on your finger.” Nate laughs. Tyson holds out his left hand and grins when Nate slides the ring on. 

“Now let me,” Tyson says. Nate holds his hand out for Tyson to slide the ring on. 

“I now pronounce us engaged.” Nate grins. “Can I kiss my fiance?”

“You may,” Tyson grins, leaning forward to kiss Nate deeply.

And they stay close like that the rest of the night, curled up with good food and a promise of something more along the way.

“Merry Christmas to all,” Nate says.

“And to all a good night.”

**Author's Note:**

> it also comes with a [playlist!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1W8NumSoyYEVxKuwydC1b8?si=Go7oWsFRRHGmRKSfV-sOwQ)
> 
> that crude version of [santa tell me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kJvfZBv1KrQ) exists, i swear.


End file.
